Yesterday I sat in rush hour traffic: glaring metal, terse flashes of aggravated lights, occasional aimless horn blasts into the highway echo chamber, drivers chewing on their teeth, holding their steering wheels as though hanging over hellfire, all the while listening to a venomous debate over the fate of Syria and the role of America between two white collared intellectuals who spoke with the kind of vigor that would almost make one believe that what they said actually made a difference to the situation in Syria–it was a “situation,” not human beings, that they were arguing about.

This morning I sat on the couch and drank coffee with my wife as Kezek dipped his spoon into an empty bowl pretending to eat…who knows: worms? gummy bears? leprechauns? gummy leprechauns? I went outside to see the sun just breaching the surface of this day that was being made, stretching out its light to awaken the Daylilies and begin wiping away the morning dew. I saw a different kind of traffic, roadless and free, not a demolition derby but a dance, as all creation was content to play its part rather than driving as gods in giant, fuel burning metal caskets. It looked like a symphony, a haphazard harmony of movement from the trees to the grass to the tomato trellis and finally to a nest the newly wed couple made together on the corner of the fence Keldy and I made as newly weds. And there, a loving mother wiggled into place to give warmth to the four living, misshaped globes that are as blue as the glowing sea above when the sun hangs at midday, just before floating into the western sky to paint the evening with the colors of flame.

Then I came into my office, turned on Mozart’s No. 25, shut my eyes, and listened in the echo chamber of heaven–and I thanked God. I thanked God that there is another world: this one. I thanked God for the world He made and I told him I was sad, too, that it was invisible to so many; that it for so many has been eclipsed by the making of a much harsher world, a world of chaos and conflict and car accidents. Then I prayed for the people in rush hour. I prayed too for the people in Syria. I prayed for their eyes.

“Do you have eyes but fail to see?” ~Jesus
“Be still and know that I am God.” ~Your Father

#rest